


Poison Pen Letters

by caplanbuckybarnes



Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, F/M, Gangsters, Letters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-04 00:15:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13352472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caplanbuckybarnes/pseuds/caplanbuckybarnes
Summary: an incident involving tripping the Brooklyn King’s henchman turns your life around like a carousel.





	1. Chapter 1

“Y/N!” you heard your father shouting for you from the kitchen. You groaned heavily as you placed your laptop on your bed before standing and stretching your limbs.

“Yes, daddy?” you asked, stepping off the last stair and striding down the hallway, bringing your arms across your chest as the wooden floors caused a shiver to run down your spine. “What is it?”

He silently handed you a letter, disapproval written across his face, making his aging lines look even older than he was. “What is this?” he asked, annoyance in his voice.

You scanned the letter with your eyes quickly, mouth falling open before you had even finished the first paragraph. “Daddy, I-”

“Explain to me why the king of new York wants to meet with you.” he scolded. “I thought you weren’t involved with those fools? What happened?”

“I bumped into Bucky at the supermarket a few days ago. It was an accident.

“Bucky’s his name, is it?” he asked, a frown etched into his eyebrows.

“His right hand man, according to the papers.” you explained, backing into the hallway, the letter gripped tightly in your left hand. “Steve, he’s just a fool. This is a trap, or something. It has to be.”

“How did he get this address, Y/N?” you dad scowled at you. “Tell me.”

“He runs the streets, you know that. He knows everything about this city.” you tried reasoning with him. But you knew he was already pissed. You looked down at the crumpled letter in your hand and wondered why exactly STeven Grant Rogers had requested your presence in his mansion across town by the harbor. “Maybe he wants me to apologize to him face to face or something.”

“I can’t let you go to his place, Y/N.” he said, wiping a hand down his face. He was calmer now. But you knew he was still pissed about receiving the letter in the first place.

“You know what will happen if i refuse his offer, daddy.” you bargained with him. “I can’t risk your life.”

He sighed and closed his eyes for a long moment, hands gripping the counter in front of him. “If you get into trouble, call me right away. Do you hear me?”

“Of course,” you agreed, glancing down at the letter, knowing Steve or his henchman would appear in front of your door early the next morning with or without your father’s approval.

> _Dearest Y/L/N Residence,_
> 
> _I do hope you excuse the sudden letter sending. Of course I could have easily called your household. But that wouldn’t have felt right in a situation such as this. My name is Steven Grant Rogers, of course, you should rightly well know whom I am._
> 
> _I was informed recently of an incident involving a dear friend of mine and yourself? I must require you to take a visit to my domains, if you will. I need to see for myself if what James Barnes has told me of your beauty to be true._
> 
> _After all, he knows better than to stumble in public. You must have been quite the looker for him to admit such embarrassing posture to fail him._
> 
> _I must insist on meeting you, my dear. I will have Bucky retrieve you from your household eight in the morning tomorrow. Not a moment later._
> 
> _Shall you refuse to meet with him, I can assure you, your family will not survive another day._
> 
> _So please, if you will,_
> 
> _Steven Grant Rogers_

————

The next morning, you were woken up by a knock on your bedroom door. Your father had called your name. Immediately, your eyes sprung open before you flailed to leave your bed, nearly stumbling across the room in your haste to open the door for your father.

“It’s nearly time for your meeting with the mobster fool.”

You nodded and closed your door once more. You looked at your cell phone and groaned, letting your head fall into your hands for a brief moment. You had a half hour to make yourself presentable for Steven Grant Rogers.

With five minutes to spare, you somehow dressed yourself in something you’d hoped he’d approve of. You had run down the stairs, where your father was waiting for you. He threw you a worrisome frown as a knock came to the door, startling you.

You felt your heart beating in your ears as you took one step, two steps, and then three steps to the door. The doorknob felt too heavy in your hands as you turned it to reveal the same man you had knocked into in the supermarket not 24 hours ago.

“Good morning, Y/N.” he smiled at you. You couldn’t begin to figure out if it was genuine or just to be polite. “I will be escorting you to my boss. Care for a cup of coffee along the way?”

“No, sir.” you swallowed down the vomit that wanted to spill from your lips. But you resisted the urge as Bucky placed his hand on the small of your back, tipping his hat to your father before escorting you to the Cadillac that rested in front of your house. The car looked entirely out of place, but you refrained from commenting on the lavishness of this whole ordeal.

“Relax,” Bucky laughed lightly as you sat in the passenger seat, hands directly out in front of you. “He just wants to see you, that’s all.”

You hesitated to speak as he rounded the car and sat behind the wheel. You looked behind you in the mirror at your house, wondering if you would come back alive or in a body bag.

“I told him it was no big deal,” Bucky spoke, a gentle smile curling the corner of his lip. “But he insisted on meeting you, the girl who caused me to be late returning from a store run. You’re quite a looker.”

“I’m going to come out of this alive, right?” you wrung your hands in your lap. “He’s not going to hurt my father or myself for disrespecting his henchman?”

“Of course not.” he smiled.

The remainder of the journey to the riverside was spent in silence. You couldn’t think of anything to say and Bucky was used to the silence in the car as he always made runs around the city by himself.

“Right this way, ma’am,” Bucky spoke as he parked the car in a lavish garage and stepped out only to help you out as well.

“This garage is larger than my house,” you mumbled, your eyes grazing over the numerous vehicles littering the space.

He directed you through a hallway and into the kitchen where a blond man stood in a white shirt, half unbuttoned, hurriedly tucked into his pants. “Bucky, I wasn’t expecting you to arrive so shortly.” he announced, turning around at the sound of your arrival.

“She didn’t wish for any coffee, so I brought her right over.” he expressed with a small shrug. “Anything else you need, boss?”

“No, thank you, Buck. I have a plate of pancakes waiting for you in the dining room, if you wish to eat.”

“Thanks.” Bucky nodded before leaving the kitchen, leaving you and the mobster king of Brooklyn standing in the same space, less than ten feet away from one another.

“You know…” Steve started slowly before turning back to the stove and flipping a pancake before tilting his head in your direction. “You’ve no idea who I am, do you, Y/N?”

“The man that runs this city.” you answered automatically. “Your family ran this city for generations.”

Chuckling, he turned to fully face you, his eyes full of amusement. “I knew your mother before she passed away from the swine flu. It’s a shame, really. She made the most amazing pumpkin pie every November.”

Your eyes opened wide at the confession. “How do you know that?”

“Your mother and my own were friends in high school, they remained friends afterwards. She was my godmother before she passed away.”

“You’re lying.” you mumbled, trying to figure out if he was telling you the truth.

“What do I have to lie about?” Arching a brow, he licked the spatula he held in his hands. “Anyway, darling, I wanted to finally meet you in person. I’ve heard so much about you from my mother as I grew older. She tells me you’re bright and brilliant. She tells me you’re well educated. You’ve a knack for avoiding trouble.”

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes. “Clearly, you don’t know my father. He was strict on me since I was an only child. I had to be the best that I could in his eyes.”

“I never knew your father.” He commented, placing a pancake o n plate next to the stove.

“What exactly am I here for, Mr. Rogers?” you asked, wanting nothing more than to leave and curl up in your bed and forget this exchange had ever happened.

“I wanted to ask if you’d ever join my company? Not as a companion, but rather, someone I can trust and gain knowledge from. You’re far more educated than myself and my henchmen. We could learn a lot from you, dear.”

“And if I decline your offer?” you asked in hesitance. “What would happen?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. But it would be a damn shame not to have your intelligence running the loan sharks and driving them mad.”

“Let me think it over?” you swallowed, not knowing why you would ever put yourself into a position like this in the first place.

“You have one week to decide.” he granted. “Are you sure you’re not hungry? I can make a batch of pancakes for you, if you’d like?”

“To be honest with you, sir,” you let out a small chuckle. “I still can’t believe I’m standing in your presence when you look so comfortable in your surroundings. Every time I had seen you, you were perfectly polished.”

“I have an image to uphold.” he replied, raising a brow. “I can’t be respected if I don’t look presentable to the public. But here, in my home, I can dress how I wish and not be judged. You never answered my question, by the way.”

“I’m not hungry.” you responded.

“Bucky!” Steve hollered out , causing you to jump at the sudden loudness of his voice. “Are you ready to return home, dear?” he asked you as Bucky appeared in the doorway.

“Yes.” you nodded, trying not to be too eager.

“Care to return her back to her home?” He asked Bucky.

“Yes sir,” Bucky nodded, beckoning to you.

“One week!” Steve hollered out as the pair of you walked into the garage.


	2. Royale Russian Roulette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve doesn’t like you walking around alone late at night. And he has his reasons.

“Oh come on baby,” you purred, pulling at his jacket, bringing him closer to you, even though your belly prevented the closeness. “It’s just a little milk run. I won’t get taken away by Tony or anything; I promise.”

“You know I don’t like you walking around this city at night unaccompanied. His goons, they don’t play nice.” He replied, caressing your cheek with a finger. “It’s not you I don’t trust, Y/N. It’s Tony and his goons. You must understand why I can’t allow this to happen.”

“Tell you what,” you bargained, a sly smirk sliding across your features. “I bring you back some caramel apples and we have dessert for dinner tomorrow night?”

Scoffing with the small roll of his gentle blue eyes -a look he only ever reserved for you, his queen- he agreed. “Take the pistol, please, doll?”

“It’s only a few blocks away,” you mumbled against his lips as he leaned over and pressed his palms against your swollen belly, his lips grazing your own. “I’ll be okay; I promise.”

Sighing, he leaned back and nodded slowly. It’s not that he wanted you all to himself- he could have you whenever you wished it. He merely wanted you safe and sound. The hour was late, nearing midnight. He knew he had no control over what you wanted to do.

But he knew Tony Stark and his goons were horrible, terrible people. They’d been after his estates and profits for years now; the Rogers’s and the Stark’s were common enemy around Brooklyn. Everyone knew not to step between the pair of them.

Anthony Stark was an arrogant, deceitful man. He played polite to gain ranks among his henchmen. Much, the opposite of Steve. Seve was far from innocent in any sense of the terms. But he regarded his friends and family as higher than himself. Something Stark never had done. The rivalry began and ended with their parents.

It had almost always been a fight on sight whenever the men were seen in the same place together. Rooms cleared out as quickly as a blink of an eye. Voices became deathly silent, you could hear a pin drop. Fires could have started from the intensity of their stares. Lions would have scattered away in fright.

————-

You adored your husband, most than anything. You smiled to yourself as you walked down the street, pulling your coat tighter to your body and walking briskly, trying to avoid any eye contact with the other late night town walkers. You glanced up once you had reached the tiny storefront, smiling kindly at CLint Barton as he stood behind the register.

“How’s the lady, Clint?” you greeted as you walked to the other side of the store to grab the jar of milk.

“She’s doing good, Y/N.” his bright and soft smile made you feel warm and welcome as you approached the counter, fishing the money to pay for the mil.

“Don’t worry about it.” Clint waved your hand away. “I owe Grant a few favors; milk isn’t one of them, but it’s alright, love. You stay safe okay? Tell the old man I send my well wishes for the pair of you.”

“Clint,” you rolled your eyes, though your voice held playfulness. “Protecting Nat was nothing for him; you know he cares for the pair of you.”

“Stay safe,” he pushed the milk towards you, beckoning the next customer over to his counter, effectively ignoring your presence until you huffed and walked outside, clutching the milk to your arm and walking down the street once more.

You started whistling to yourself until you noticed a black cadillac slowing down in the street next to you. You tried ignoring them, hoisting the bag higher up on your arm. You had a feeling you knew who the driver of the car had been, but you paid no mind. Until=

“What’s Grant’s bitch doing all alone this late at night, huh?” A voice you immediately recognized as Stark’s came from the car. “What’s he thinkin’? Leaving you all alone.”

“I have pepper spray.” you stated, continuing to walk to your home, never giving Stark the satisfaction that your skin was crawling, the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck had raised. “I’d leave this part of town, Tony, if I were you.”

“Now,” his voice cooed as he stopped the car and stood away from it, taking two large steps until he was by your side. “Why does Grant have his pregnant wife walking alone in the streets this late at night, huh?”

“That’s none-” you ended your threat in a gurgled cry as his hand suddenly found its way around your throat, his fingers pressing roughly against your windpipe.

“He’s got trouble comin’. You’ll deliver the message, won’t you?”

You couldn’t respond; your vision was becoming blurry. But just as quickly as his throat had made it’s way onto your skin, his assault had ended with him being knocked to the ground. You gasped out for air to fill your lungs again before you looked to your right and nearly collapsed into your husband’s arms.

“Steve,” you breathed out weakly as his arms tenderly wrapped around your body.

“What the hell are you doing on my side of town, Stark?” He demanded, voice raw with malice, even though his hand had been running tenderly up and down your spine. “Get the fuck out of here before I slam your face on the pavement and ruin your perfectly polished teeth.”

“Steve, I’m sorry. I didn’t-” your panicked cries were carefully quieted down as he turned to gaze at you.

‘You did good, sweetheart.” he smiled, his thumb grazing your cheek before he kissed your forehead. “Let’s get you back home, yeah?”

“The milk-” you pouted, looking at the space where the glass had shattered, casing white to spill along the pavement. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll have more delivered in the morning, okay?” he soothed, knowing your hormones were all over the place. He knew the best way for you to remain calm was for him to be as well. “Let’s get you home; you did good, okay? I’ll handle Stark tomorrow. He knew better than to touch you.”

“Were you tailin’ me the whole time?” you accused slightly as he took his jacket away from his body and placed it on your shoulders before pulling you to his side and guiding you back to the house.

“When you didn’t come home, I’d assumed the worst.” he admitted, his jaw set in a hard line. “I figured maybe you had just been caught up in a conversation with Clint; I know how the pair of you like to gossip.”

“You’re not mad, are you?” you worried at your lip as the pair of you approached your house, Steve placing the key in the lock before guiding you inside.

“Not at you, if that’s what you’re implying.” he nearly chuckled as he guided you to the kitchen and sitting you down at the kitchen table before walking to the stove and placing a pot of tea on the stove to warm up.

You nodded in silence.

“Stark’s going to pay for laying a finger on you, I promise that. “ he vowed. “I’ll hunt him down if I have to. I wasn’t going to do anything in front of you and the baby.”

“Okay,” you sniffled as he knelt down in front of you and kissed your belly.

“I promised your father I would keep you safe if you agreed to be with me in my home. I was a fool to think life would be gentle with you present here. I was a fool for demanding you stay in my presence. I was a fool to fall for you and create this family with-”

“My mother would be proud of you, Steve.” you hummed, brushing your fingers through his hair. “It would have been too nice if we had met before her death, however. Who knows where we could have been after all this time, huh?”

“Yeah.” He smiled and looked at you before heaving himself from the floor and walking over to pour some tea into a cup for you.


End file.
